


if we could find our way back, we would

by justsleepwalkin



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Implied Relationships, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 09:29:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12478488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justsleepwalkin/pseuds/justsleepwalkin
Summary: Her domain is terrifyingly familiar in how veryisolatedshe is. To the rest of the pantheon she is like he and his sister in Syngorn as children, trying to fit in where everyone around them looks on with disdain and distrust.





	if we could find our way back, we would

**Author's Note:**

> It was only a matter of time before I threw together some words post-finale. 
> 
> I make a lot of stuff up. 
> 
>  
> 
> If we could turn the hourglass, we would.  
> If we could move a grain of sand, we would.  
> If we could find our way back, we would.  
> Our minds keep spinning webs  
> Of question marks and of regrets.  
> Will our minds keep spinning webs?  
> -Hourglass by Sleeping At Last  
> ([♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FlRxQdov55o))

Vax'ildan is one raven and many. He is behind a mask and yet open to the world. His wings envelope Tal'Dorei despite being so small. He sees life. He sees death. He sees the weave of stories, strands connecting to the heartbeats of his friends and family; he's heard Bards spin tales before, but nothing like the spinning of his Matron coasting her hands over. He _feels_ the lives of his family. Experiences them in his blood. 

He's a raven and he's in the world. He perches with others, speaks in a clamor of sounds drawn from the environment. He watches over the last breaths of life, guards over the lost until his Matron sweeps in, through him and his ilk, crossing the souls. 

He is everywhere and nowhere. Her domain is terrifyingly familiar in how very _isolated_ she is. To the rest of the pantheon she is like he and his sister in Syngorn as children, trying to fit in where everyone around them looks on with disdain and distrust. 

His Matron takes it better than the twins ever did, but the loneliness is suffocating. Even the souls of her followers are often scattered about Tal'Dorei, rather than in her domain. 

_Sarenrae had pearls of souls on her beach. Pelor had his farmers. Why are the souls of your worshipers so far from you?_

He's with them more than he's at her side. Always flying, always watching, resting on the sinews of Fate.

_We are in-between,_ she explains, _we are the bridge, life to death._

It's frustrating to him. _You don't have to be so alone._

_Vax'ildan. There is always work that needs to be done._

He tries to make it to Zephrah, to perch on the boughs where the life-death knots tangle and twist and tug. He knows every line, but one is strongest. One holds all the ties close to it, and many, many more like only the Voice of the Tempest could do.

He thinks he isn't allowed this. He turns away. Keeps to his duty. Serves his Matron. 

It's easier work now that there are more ravens in Tal'Dorei than there used to be. _Because of you, my Champion._

Him, Percy, his sister, Keyleth. They pulled the Matron of Ravens out of the shadows, cast a light on her that wasn't _fearful_. 

She gave him purpose. He had intended to follow the path of the Everlight, but Fate took him down a different path. A colder path, and he had been terrified. He'd saved his sister but he was _so damn scared_ , and yet... He wonders, from time to time, when his soul trickles from raven to raven, drifting with inky-black feathers, he doesn't think he would have felt the same _calmness_ as he does now, after everything. _Purpose_. 

And Sarenrae had plenty of souls shining bright along her beach; his presence here makes things just a little less quiet. 

And that's enough, he thinks. 

_You kept your promise to me._

He never would have done anything else, even if there had been the opportunity. 

He's brought a large number of ravens back with him after they ferried souls off a battlefield. He's been doing it more often; guiding his fellows back. His Matron is well aware of his meddling, but he always gives her a charming _I don't know what you're looking at me for_ response. 

It makes her domain a touch warmer. Work may always have to be done, but workers always can find a break, even if its clustered completely onto their Matron, perched anywhere the birds can find, giving her a mantle of wings. 

_There's a promise you've yet to keep to her._

And that's the most startling thing he's ever heard from her. 

_What?_

She says nothing more, never caring to repeat herself, so he fills in the silence. 

_What are you talking about? I can—I can—_

_Just because I am isolated, does not mean you must be, my Champion._

And that's it. That's why he hasn't truly gone to Zephrah. Here, in this realm of in-between, he should be the same as his Matron; he is her Champion, after all. He walks the same path as she, interacts in the same work as she. 

He's distant, as she. 

_I can't—I shouldn't leave you._

He wants, gods does he want to see Keyleth. Of his family, he can always find her thread, like a beacon. She is a tree, aging slow, growing more and more roots as the days go by. And he misses her. He _always_ misses her. 

_I expect you know your path._

He's always known. She's told him what she wants of him and he's done it. He walked with her at his back and in some strange way, perhaps she had a developing faith in _him_ as he had for _her_. He's always been aware, and he understands what she means now.

_I will always serve you. I will always come back._

He can't leave her alone like he can't leave Keyleth. He remembers the streets of Syngorn too well, and he wishes that on no one.

* * *

Vax is many ravens.

And then, Vax is one.

**Author's Note:**

> Vax probably could get a break but I imagine keeping busy is better. 
> 
> I haven't listened to the last episode since it originally aired.


End file.
